


Rumor Mill

by ednoppoz (zopponde)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Condoms, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Season/Series 11, RvB Rare Pair Week, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Tucker, Transgender Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zopponde/pseuds/ednoppoz
Summary: Tucker comes out to Felix, gets fucked by Felix, and takes a shower. In an ideal world, it would probably happen in that order.





	Rumor Mill

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I didn't hesitate to use words such as "clit" but just totally dodge any direct words for "vagina." If that's gonna make you dysphoric, maybe don't read it? (I may be able to generate altered versions if needed.)
> 
> Liner notes & reblog link:  
> <http://seerofbread.tumblr.com/post/173627460955/rumor-mill-archive-of-our-own>

“Hey,” Felix says, “catch.”

Tucker does not catch whatever Felix is throwing. He successfully knocks it off the crash course into his face, which he figures should count for something, even as he stoops to pick up the shitty canvas sack. “Fuck is this?” he asks, already opening the bag.

“Welcome package. Standard issue toiletries of the New Republic,” Felix answers, “plus a little something extra.”

The first thing Tucker sees is toothpaste, and that’s all he needs to know. His teeth have spent three weeks developing a soft grit that only tastes like the sour flavors of rations. He looks up at Felix to ask, “Is there any reason I can’t go take a shower right fucking now? I think I’m going to anyway.”

“You’re not exactly on orders yet. You can do whatever the hell you want,” Felix points out, “you don’t need my permission.”

“Fuck yeah,” Tucker says, and he doesn’t have to be told twice. He’s headed for the showers before Felix can think of some other reason, and especially before that Kimball woman can track him down. Tucker is vaguely aware that she wants him to join her army for some reason, but he hasn’t actually signed anything yet, and frankly he doesn’t want to until he’s in the best bargaining position. ( _Bow-chicka-bow-wow._ ) That’s probably going to involve smelling less like a guy who hasn’t completely taken his armor off in almost a month.

The idea is to spend two solid hours in the shower. The hot water supply has other plans, but that’s fine. An hour is a pretty good start, and there’s plenty of other shit to do while the heater recovers. Seems like all the actual soldiers are still doing actual soldier things, because the public bathroom stays empty through the shower and through Tucker brushing his teeth. He’s relieved, but a little annoyed that he’s been bothering to wear his packer under boxer-briefs just to stand at the sink alone. He’s not sure what the people of Chorus know about his biological history, but he’s not eager to start any rumors until he knows the attitudes here. Not that he’s bothered to hide his chest scars, but the bright teal Sangheili calligraphy tattoos tend to distract people from that, and Tucker’s got enough other scars that they usually aren’t the first ones people notice.

Tucker is shaving his face when some footsteps start up on the tile behind him. Some lean white asshole comes in with a towel on his waist and nothing else hiding his body: taut skin over dense muscle, covered in neat black tattoo lines and jagged white scar tissue. The shock of long hair on the top of his head is messy and tangled, desperately in need of a wash. Almost like he’s here for a reason.

“You’re still in here?” Tucker recognizes Felix by voice now, and that almost makes Tucker regret checking him out. Almost. “Did you do some other shit first and blow me off for nothing?”

“Nah man,” Tucker says, running the razor down his face one more time and pretending his interest in the mirror is just checking on his shave. “I’ve been sitting in a canyon getting dirt stuck in my ass for the last three weeks. That shit takes scrubbing.”

Felix rolls his eyes, heading for the shower Tucker just left. “You can just say you were jerking it.”

“Dude,” Tucker says, “I absolutely would if that’s what I was doing.” Knowing that Felix was about to go in the same stall, he might have held back for once, actually, but it’s true anyway. The only thing coming out of his body was mud. “And I actually get to look at people who aren’t my fucking teammates tonight, why would I waste time with the fucking shower?”

“Maybe so you don’t have to waste the time on another shower?”

“Time in the shower is never wasted,” Tucker says, rinsing his face and brushing hair off the counter. “By the way, the hot water’s out.”

Felix sighs heavily. “Of course.” And then the shower curtain rolls back and Felix has the towel on his hips and a glare for Tucker. “You know this is an actual military operation, right? There’s a limit on resources. The energy budgeted for heating water is very, very limited.”

Tucker shrugs. “Not my problem.”

“I gave you a gift, and this is how you repay me?”

“I thought you said this was standard issue,” Tucker says, patting the bag.

“The soap stuff is. The condoms aren’t,” Felix explains, stepping closer to the sink.

Tucker empties the thing out on the sink counter without a second thought. Sure enough, amongst the floss and body lotion, there’s a whole 20-pack of condoms. “Shit, dude, why didn’t you say so?”

A red tint starts building in Felix’s cheeks. It’s really noticable now that he’s standing right next to Tucker. “I was trying to be discreet, asshole,” he says, shoulders rising defensively.

“Wait, is this your way of saying you want to have sex with me?”

“What the fuck, no!” Felix’s face contorts in all kinds of ways, flushing deeper for some reason as he goes on, “I read your fucking file, if you’re potent enough to knock up an _alien_ \--nobody wants to get pregnant during a civil war--I just wanted to do you a _favor--_ ”

“So that I’d want to sleep with you? ’Cause I mean, you could always just ask,” Tucker says, shit-eating grin set to 11 even before Felix can shoot a glare like he can’t believe what an asshole Tucker is. It’s good to know that the UNSC must have finally updated his birth certificate on file, if someone thought he was the one doing the impregnating. But if Felix wants to help him already, then Tucker’s probably going to want to make sure the guy knows _how_ to help. “Anyway, who the hell wrote that file? They might have gotten a couple details… wrong? Um…”

Felix’s face is all up in Tucker’s now, weirdly serious. And then his hand is on the counter next to Tucker’s, callouses grazing over the back of Tucker’s fingers. The turnaround is enough to give a man whiplash, but Tucker’s pulse quickens at the touch. Then Felix quirks an eyebrow, asking a question, and Tucker--

Tucker closes his eyes and sees headlines about murder. The trans panic defense isn’t as effective as it used to be, and Tucker isn’t the most vulnerable demographic, but with stakes like that it’s hard to dismiss the possibility. And with the Chorus government at war with itself, why would Felix even worry about legal consequences?

And then there are lips on Tucker’s and it all melts out of his mind. A warm static takes the place of thought and _god_ Tucker hasn’t gotten laid in _weeks,_ can’t even remember the last time he’s had skin-to-skin contact with anyone else, and now there’s a whole naked body in front of him, a chest so damn close and a pair of lips that Tucker opens his mouth to without thinking. With one hand he slips between Felix’s fingers and with the other he feels for a torso, sliding around Felix’s side to feel his shoulder blade and pull him closer, turning so his back faces the sink.

Felix laughs into Tucker’s mouth like he’s won something, and Tucker vaguely remembers that there’s something Felix needs to know. He just needs one more kiss first, and one more, and maybe this one will tell Felix whatever it was. Teeth graze his lower lip, a warning before catching his lip and pulling a meaningless sound from Tucker’s throat.

“You like that?” Felix asks, lips brushing against Tucker’s cheek before he presses a kiss under Tucker’s jaw, pushing his head into a wanton tilt. Tucker swallows, half a vocalization as he inhales. “You know, as talkative as you are, I would have thought you could articulate better, Tucker.”

“Fuck off,” Tucker mumbles. A sharp bite makes him grunt, but Felix doesn’t chastise him, just sucks on the skin until Tucker is squirming under him, pulling Felix closer, feeling Felix’s dick stiffen against his thigh.

And something snaps into place. Tucker’s still breathless as he says, “Felix.”

Felix doesn’t seem to notice. He moves down to Tucker’s collarbone, tracing the line of bright teal with his tongue. Tucker feels it like he felt the Sangheili word tattooed in place and doesn’t know if Felix can read it. Both sides say _lover_ in a one-word translation, but there’s an obscene connotation and Felix’s teeth catch on the lines describing procreation from a perspective Tucker probably will never have. Tucker shivers and tries again, nearly a whisper, but he knows that Felix can hear it when he’s so close. “Felix.”

Another bite, harder, like Tucker’s begging for more. And he wants it, he does, he just can’t let Felix find out the wrong way. “Felix, wait.”

Felix detaches from his second hickey with a smirk, and for some reason Tucker feels surprised that there’s no blood on his teeth. “Don’t worry, nobody’s coming through here. There’s a reason I came for a shower now.”

Tucker genuinely hadn’t thought of that, and now he imagines getting caught, having to face anyone ever again after that. The heat of imagined embarrassment mingles with the rising flame in his junk and feeds it to ignite him through to his stomach, just about to the spot Felix is kissing now, just under his bottom rib. He’s not stopping to bite now, nibbling for half a second before proceeding, and it’s now or never.

“It’s not that,” Tucker says quickly. Felix pauses, lips still touching Tucker as he looks up, eyebrows raised, rolling his eyes to meet Tucker’s. For some reason, Tucker remembers that there are vital organs under Felix’s mouth, protected only by skin and muscle and the basic decency that Tucker needs Felix to have right now. “I just--” And suddenly Tucker forgets his own identity, forgets the words he must’ve told dozens of people by now, grasping for the ones that will keep him safe.

“All talk and no game?” Felix drawls, halfway to an exasperated sigh. “You didn’t want me to buy you dinner first, did you?”

“No, bathroom quickies are fine and I definitely do them all the time, I…” Tucker fucking wishes he weren’t doing this. “Just--I don’t have a dick, okay?” That sounded dumb as hell. Tucker feels his shoulders tense. “Or whatever. I wasn’t gonna ruin the surprise but I don’t want you freaking out on me, okay?”

Felix’s eyes flicker to the surgery scars as he rises from his squat. “Oh. That’s what those are.”

“What the hell did you think?” If Felix knows what they are now, why didn’t he clue in sooner? “Who gets a battle scar the same on both sides?”

“Someone who gets captured,” Felix says darkly. Tucker wonders fleetingly, trying to remember if there were symmetrical scars when he saw Felix coming out of the shower--but Felix is already lifting a hand to Tucker’s chin, cupping his jaw and kissing his lips with a sweetness that takes Tucker by surprise. “So, how can I pleasure you today? Are you a backdoor man, or does the front work?”

He says it into Tucker’s ear and the hot breath starts a shiver from where it touched Tucker’s neck. “Front,” he says, “won’t need lube if you eat me out first.”

Felix clicks his tongue. “Needy little thing, aren’t you? You’re gonna owe me one sometime, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that, dude.”

“Sorry.” Felix smiles slyly and puts on a sultry voice which is probably cheesy as hell but Tucker? Tucker fucking loves it. “Did you pick out your name, Lavernius?” And he makes the name sound like velvet, hot and weighted and worth rubbing up against. “I can just call you Lavernius, if that’s what you want.” He’s taking his time now, dropping light kisses on Tucker’s neck, and Tucker’s wondering what happened to the bathroom quickie.

“Come on,” Tucker growls, and he grabs Felix’s hair and kisses him again, hard as he can, nearly pushing off from the sink with the force as he tastes Felix’s teeth, bites at his lips and feels Felix hum and bite back.

Without breaking away, Felix puts a hand on Tucker’s chest, running his thumb over the scar line like he had always just been hoping for permission to touch. Tucker grinds against him shamelessly now, packer harness pressing somewhere close enough to interest his clit, and Felix tenses for a split second but goes on sucking Tucker’s lip. His hands slide down to pull Tucker’s ass closer, and as he grips Tucker’s rock-hard thigh muscles he makes an appreciative hum. All those fucking squats finally paid off for something actually useful.

There’s no time to thank Wash. Felix snaps the elastic of Tucker’s boxer-briefs in the back and Tucker flinches forward, and Felix tries a quick version of his show earlier, nibbling down teal lines, pausing again at Tucker’s navel to suck while he lets his towel fall to the floor. And then he’s in his knees, eyeing the bulge of the packer and pulling elastic down around Tucker’s ass to drag the underwear to the floor.

Felix sees the packer and looks up at Tucker with a grin. “Does this do anything for you? Is this sexy and affirming, Lavernius?” he asks, brushing his lips against the packer.

“Dude, no. It’s just gonna taste like lint.” Tucker’s already fumbling with the harness buckles.

Felix makes a face like he already caught a taste of the silicone, but he quickly turns his attention to Tucker’s thighs while Tucker tosses the harness and shoves the other contents it the bag aside, kissing a line up the front side as he runs his hands down the outer edge. He reaches Tucker’s hip bone and flicks his eyes up expectantly, asking another question, one hand moving around to gently push Tucker’s knees apart.

“Yeah,” Tucker says, breath catching in his throat as he spreads his legs as well as he can. He’s leaning back on his hands at the edge of the sink counter, and Felix moves his lips to the joint between leg and pelvis, sucking hard enough to bruise even as his tongue presses affection in. Tucker can’t keep his mouth closed, shifting his hips to press against the contact, moaning at Felix’s bite to finish off the mark.

He moves to the other thigh and Tucker can’t wait any longer. “Hey, how long until your brilliant timing runs out?”

Felix blinks. “Fuck,” he murmurs, and he rises to lift Tucker halfway onto the counter, ass supported enough for Felix to slip under his legs and prop them on his shoulders.

The first lick is awkward, dry as fuck, but Felix wets his tongue and the second is sublime. Tucker leans back until his head touches the mirror, sighing as Felix sucks his clit, gasping as his tongue probes deeper. Felix takes a long drag from the wet entrance to the tip of Tucker’s clit and Tucker moans, tension rising in his legs until he forces them to relax.

One of Felix’s hands creeps back up Tucker’s thigh, gripping one side of his hip, and Felix hums against Tucker. “Shit,” Tucker whispers, “Felix…”

Felix glances up, and for once there’s no trace of a smirk, no victorious gloat, only a deep lust in his eyes. Tucker goes breathless, but that doesn’t stop him from mouthing Felix’s name in a weak exhale. Felix grips Tucker’s ass in both hands and pulls him off the counter, leans back from between Tucker’s legs and reaches for something on the counter.

The desperate lack of stimulation is enough to make Tucker beg, but he can’t move, watching Felix’s face as he unwraps a condom, looking up at Tucker with an intense want. A smile spreads over Felix’s face slowly, like he’s realizing how his want is gonna get fulfilled. Tucker licks his lips in anticipation, shifting his hips forward as Felix gets to his feet.

“You ready?” Felix asks, setting his hands on Tucker’s hips.

Tucker glances down, confirming that the condom’s in place. “Just fucking do it.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“Please fucking do it.”

“Please who?” Felix lines himself up, letting Tucker feel the tip of his cock, and if Felix were promising anything else Tucker would refuse on principle.

“Please, Felix,” he says, and he hates how needy he sounds but damn if that isn’t exactly what he is.

“Good boy,” Felix purrs, and he slides in slowly like an asshole.

Tucker sinks his hips down, taking Felix in, and Felix grips him tighter, holding his hips still against the edge of the sink. Felix leans in and Tucker thinks he’s going for a kiss but his lips go instead for Tucker’s ear.

“Should I keep going?”

“Yes, you asshole,” Tucker says, grinding his hips. Felix doesn’t have enough control to stop him entirely, but the motion is frustratingly limited.

“Asshole isn’t the guy fucking you right now.”

“I was using your middle fucking name,” Tucker snaps, and Felix drums his fingers on Tucker’s ass impatiently. God, he’s going to be like this. “Just fuck me already, Felix.”

Felix shifts, releasing the vice-like grip on Tucker’s hips as he whispers into Tucker’s ear, “Keep it up.”

And he bites at Tucker’s neck, symmetrical to the first mark, and Tucker gasps Felix’s name even as Felix withdraws and pushes back in, building up to a fluid motion. Tucker holds on to the edge of the sink like a lifeline, and he’s sure his hands are going to be cramped all to hell but it’s the only leverage he can get. He wants to touch Felix all over, feel the texture of his layered scars, hold the muscles under sweat-slicked skin.

But Felix’s thrusts slow to a tease, and Tucker can’t think of an alternative before he’s hissing the name again, drawing it out until Felix’s dick rams back into him. Tucker moans and tries to shape the sound of it like the man leaning over him, repeating the name until it loses meaning and holds only the phantom taste of sweat and grit and black tattoo ink. He throws a hand up to grasp Felix’s shoulder, trusting his weight in Felix’s hands as he pulls closer, feeling the tension and release Felix’s thrusts like the muscles behind the controlled motion of his own hips. “Felix,” Tucker keeps saying, and it feels like part of the friction, the motion of his lips just as essential to his ecstasy as the push of flesh filling him up and the friction of pulling out to fill him again.

He only wishes he could explore Felix completely, spread his hands over taut skin and feel the tension of muscle under his mouth. Felix keeps up a quick pace and Tucker tries not to think of a next time, tries to focus on the glorious sensations of the present, but it’s the ghost of Felix on his lips and the thought of _you’re gonna owe me one_ that brings him over the edge. His voice cracks through his repetitions, half of Felix’s name ringing off the bathroom tile over the murmur of the second half. Tucker tips his hips forward and Felix keeps it up, thrusting regularly at a new angle, and Tucker fucking soars to the peak.

Tucker slips the hand off of Felix’s shoulder to catch in his hair and pull him closer, breathing Felix in and hissing his name out between his teeth. “Felix. God, Felix. So good, Felix, _fuck._ ”

Felix grunts, biting his own lip with a final deep shove of his cock. Tucker knows his orgasm isn’t going to come back but he rides out the last ripples until the hypersensitive twitches run down through his toes, coasting down as he grinds the tension out of the muscles of his ass.

With a sigh, Felix pulls out, and Tucker feels the reflexive tensing and relaxes, watching Felix tie off the condom and toss it. Tucker finally lets go of the counter, stretching out his fingers and rolling his neck. “Man, I could eat a horse. That’s how you know it’s been good.”

“I already ate,” Felix says flippantly, picking up the towel and draping it over his shoulder, “if you’re asking for company. Besides, the rumor mill will have enough material as is, if anyone so much as passed by in the hallway.”

Tucker pauses, hand on his packer harness, about to ask how the hell anyone would know when he remembers Felix’s fucking name kink. “Fucking asshole.”

“I don’t go by my middle name, Tucker, you should know that by now.”  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging it on Tumblr:  
> <http://seerofbread.tumblr.com/post/173627460955/rumor-mill-archive-of-our-own>


End file.
